Lain The Avenger
by BloodyDemon666
Summary: This is a co-op story with my good friend Bluefire Phoenix. Lain was an experiment used to spy on Tony Stark and the Avengers. But after seeing the errors of her ways, she then joins the group she tried to steal from. Rated T but might change if we want to add some adult materials. Please Read And Review!
1. Layer 1-Wake Up

Demon's A/N: This is going to be a co-op project with The Bluefire Phoenix. This story is going to take place after the first Avengers movie and pre Age Of Ultron. Lain has been sent by an Oracle to warn the Avengers about the uprising of Ultron and the destruction of humanity. So the oracle has gifted Lain the task of gathering the Avengers along with Tony Stark to help fight against the powerful A.I. This story will be rated T for action violence, some mild language, but will subject to change if we want to add some adult stuff. Disclaimer: We don't own Lain for that is rightfully owned by Yoshitoshi Abe along with Universal/Geneon entertainment along with Funimation, and the Avengers are rightfully owned by Marvel comics. So anyway, let's get to the action.

Layer 1: Wake Up

Tony Stark always prided himself on his work. He was the best of the best when it came to any and all things mechanical. While he enjoyed the life of a billionaire playboy as well his job as Iron Man, with the women, the cars, and the attention: he preferred the solitude of his workshop. Things were simpler there.

No underhanded business partners trying to usurp his company; no psychotic Russians looking to settle a secret family feud; no maniacal gods from mythology trying to take over the planet via alien invasion. In his workshop there were only problems and solutions.

As of late, the complex problems of the outside world had started to creep into his place of simplistic bliss. His thoughts were preoccupied with the conclusion of the battle in New York. He had nearly sacrificed his life, evading death's ice like grip by a hair. Once the dust had settled, Tony got to work on a project that would bring security to the world. Security made in his own image. Stark _had_ been characterized as egotistical almost since the day he was born after all. Why would his vision not reflect him?

His project for global security started not long ago after he made a deal with Shield to build and outfit a new series of helicarriers. It was a good start, but Tony needed something smaller. Something capable of dealing up close and personal; something that could fight the battles he couldn't. Do the things he couldn't do.

The man put down his spanner for a moment. He was currently working on a giant suit with heavy plating. He rubbed his eyes and went to his office for some coffee. For the life of him he couldn't remember how long it had been since Thor and Loki left for Asgard via the Bifrost. Since he and Banner parted ways. Since Cap and Black Widow returned to Shield. The only reference to time he had, was the clock sitting on his desk in his workshop's office. It currently read a quarter-past-midnight.

Tony took a small swig of the bitter drink and cringed a bit. He went over to a cabinet and scrounged through the bottles that were inside it. His hand stopped on a particularly large container and pulled it out. It was a particularly rare Irish cream liquor. He walked back over to his desk and took out a shot glass. His eyes moved between the glass and the bottle a few times before he set the glass aside. He liberally filled his cup with the alcohol and added the rest into the coffee pot.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Tony looked up. A girl in a white spring dress was sitting on the shoulder pad of the suit he was working on. Her head curiously bobbed side to side. Her rusty brown hair was bizarrely cut; trimmed above her neck all the way around save for a long forelock that ran the length of the left side of her face. She had deep brown eyes that seemed to read into Tony's very soul.

The man felt his heart rate spike. He instinctively blinked only to find the girl had vanished after his eyes were opened. Was she just a figment of his imagination?

"Jarvis?" Tony hesitantly called out.

"Is there something wrong sir?" Jarvis asked in his cool London accent.

"Run a security sweep," the man ordered.

"Again, sir? This is the third time in ten…"

"Just run the damn sweep Jarvis," Tony growled.

"Yes sir, beginning security sweep," the computer faithfully complied. Tony nodded and went back to working on his suit. He climbed up to where he had seen the girl just moments before. He ran his hand all over the spot, looking for just the slightest hint of something.

"Tony," a girl's voice called to him. The man shook his head.

"You're losing it, Stark. You're losing it," he whispered to himself.

"Tony," the voice called out again. Tony dismounted the suit and started to look around the workshop. He turned around to see the girl from before standing in front of him. "Wake up Tony." The girl snapped her fingers.

The man launched up off of his bed, covered in sweat. His mouth was crying out for water. He took in a gulp of air and looked out the window. It appeared to be midmorning. Tony found himself shirtless as well.

He looked towards the door to his room to find Pepper Potts dressed in a frazzled business suit standing in the doorway. Her expression was rather grim. She had two bounded files clutched in her hands. One was significantly larger than the other.

"Pepper, what…"

"I found you collapsed in the workshop at about one in the morning," she quickly explained.

"Thanks but what are you doing here…exactly?" Tony asked.

"Well aside from the fact that I live here, I have some bad news," Pepper answered.

"They canceled Firefly again?" Tony asked in the vain attempt to be like is old self again. Pepper shook her head no and tossed him the larger of the files in her hand. Tony caught the paper and began to go through it. "What is this?"

"Someone hacked into Stark Industries last night," Pepper said.

"You meant tried to hack into Stark Industries last night," Tony said, his brow slightly ruffled at Pepper's words.

"No someone was able to get in," the redhead reaffirmed her original statement.

"That's…I built that security myself. There's no way…"

"I'm sorry Tony, but someone, somewhere was able to get in. What you have in your hands is the list of all the files the hacker accessed," Pepper said. Tony paid closer attention to what was listed in the file. Most of it was out dated junk that was just taking up space on the servers while others were new schematics for the latest projects. Pepper walked over and took the file away from Tony and gave him the other one. "This is everything we have confirmed was stolen."

Tony's heart sank as he read off the second file. Everything on it came from his private company server. Fortunately his true secrets remained safe at an offsite Shield facility. Tony rolled out of bed and headed for his bathroom. "Who knows about this?" he asked.

"Just IT, you, and me," Pepper answered.

"Good, if anyone in the department isn't under an ND, get them to sign one or send them to Aruba indefinitely," he said. He looked over his face. A rather thick beard had grown in. Tony took out his trimmer and began to remove the growth.

"Of course, anything else?"

"Get me a meeting with Colonel Furry. Tell him it's urgent."

A girl with rusty brown hair was sleeping in a pure white room. She wore a white spring dress. Her chest rose in fell in a quiet rhythm. All around her were pages upon pages of schematics of Iron Man suits. She tossed and turned over the papers. Floating above her were hundreds upon hundreds of translucent colored lines. The lines danced and curled and formed an amorphous yarn ball that stretched in and out almost at will.

Black dress shoes started to materialize into existence in a corner of the room. It was followed by an accompanying suit and finally a male with piercing eyes and slicked back hair. His eyes shifted around the room, finally focusing on the layer of documents on the floor. A frown crawled onto his face. He began to walk over to the girl, who began to stir. The male's frown first faded into a look of slight discomfort then stone stoicism once the girl had gotten onto her hands and knees.

She rubbed her eyes before standing up. Her eyes locked onto the male. The brown orbs lit up with excitement. She skipped over to the male. "Mr. Krieger, did you see? Did you see?" she said. She joyfully danced around the male. The ball of colored strings followed her around, rising and falling with the girl's every move.

"Yes Lain. You did well, but I told you not to take anything," Mr. Krieger scolded. Lain stopped dancing in front of the male, eyes glued to her feet.

"I'm sorry, but this Tony Stark…he seems like he could help me build something for me to interact with the real world," she said. Her excuse did little to soften Krieger's expression. He reached out and gently cupped the girl's chin, forcing her to look at him.

"Tony Stark and his colleagues will never help you, my dearest Lain. They would have you locked away for study and dissection," Krieger said. He released the girl, running his hand through the strange colored strings that floated around the girl. They slid right out of his grip. "They fear that which they don't understand."

Lain looked up at the male, her head slumping to the side with a skeptical look on her face. "And you do understand me?" she coyly inquired.

"I know that you are beautiful and powerful, something Stark and the goons he works for can never appreciate," Krieger said. "Now be a good girl and await further orders." The male began to fade out of the room. Once he was gone, Lain sat down and drew the floating lines to her. She began to weave through them, creating thousands of sparkling lights around the string. The smaller a section she handled, larger the lights got.

The girl finally stopped at a particular stand. She stretched out her arms, expanding the string. The lights turned into various web pages. Lain started to examine them. They were all articles and videos from the Daily Bugle.

Videos started playing and the articles began to be scrolled through. All the while Lain's eyes moved at a lightning pace from panel to panel. Most of them had to do with the attack on New York only a few months ago. The others she examined specifically had to do with Tony Stark.

Lain stopped her lightning research and returned the string to its normal size. The girl started to weave over to another section of the strings. This section contained video feeds from Stark's security cameras in his private workshop.

The male had ceased working on the massive suit for the moment and was in his office. He was drinking that black liquid Lain had seen so many humans used to energize themselves. She recalled that it was called coffee and that a good number of humans suffered from "addiction" to it. Her head started to bob from side to side as she curiously watched Stark add something to the drink.

Stark looked up from his mixture. He took a step back and called out for his own Artificial Intelligence. He was called Jarvis and Lain began to take precautions as the other computer entered the picture. Lain wrapped the strings tightly around her like a blanket.

Lain felt something as the older computer began a security sweep. Her attention was diverted to an incoming cellphone call. It was from Pepper Potts, Tony's girlfriend and current head of his company. No doubt she had been informed of Lain's handiwork and was going to inform Tony of it.

The male was in no state to interact with other humans, especially his female partner. He hadn't preformed the human ritual of sleep in days.

"Tony," the girl mouthed. The male confusedly looked around, mumbling to himself afterwards.

"Tony," she whispered again. The male's head began to swivel every which way. "Wake up Tony."

The man gently collapsed to the floor. A little while later Potts arrived and with the help of some of Stark's robots, was able to get the man to his bed. Lain watched the female franticly make calls throughout the night, stopping only to nap on a couch for an hour.

Tony finally began to stir, garnering Lain's attention. She watched as Potts gave him her files, his expression as he read through them. The male was most displeased at what he saw. There was something in his expression that made Lain recoil. Not at Tony, but herself.

Lain listened in as the humans chatted about her work. One thing did catch her attention: the name Colonel Furry. She had heard it many times before. He was the _de facto_ head of Shield. Tony apparently wanted a meeting with the man. The girl created a piece of paper and zoomed out of Tony's life. She went over to Shields twisted and knotted section of her string. For some reason Lain wanted to know what the men were going to talk about. Lain used the paper to create a copy of the section by sliding it over the tangled string.

It started to come off the page so Lain could add all the details to it. Once her representation was complete, Lain began the arduous task of untangling the mess.

A shot rang out. Blood splattered all around in the darkness. Mika Iwakura's eyes shot open, revealing her bloodshot pupils. A cold sweat cocooned her body. She had her long brown hair tied back. She was dressed in khaki capris and a red tank top. Her father was sitting next to her on the train they were riding.

Yasuo Iwakura was not a particularly intimidating man. His slight stature, bad haircut, and thick glasses blasted away any sense of physical security. It showed on his face as a nervous frown. His eyes shifted from side to side, eyeing everyone else in the car. He had positioned his briefcase as a makeshift shield for his torso.

Mika scooted a little closer to her father as the train began to slow for arrival at the station. Her father looked down at her. His nervous frown turned into a resigned smile. "You know what to do, Mika?" he asked. Mika bit her lip. She slid her hand into her pocket and clutched the flash drive inside it, ignoring the folded papers.

She released the drive and grabbed her father's arm with both hands. "Please, there has to be another option. I don't want you to leave," she quietly begged. Her father shook his head, shaking off the girl's grip.

"This is the only way to make sure that drive gets to the US," he whispered. "So what is the plan?"

"I run to the consulate, and request asylum," Mika robotically said.

"And after that?"

"Give them the documents you gave me."

"Then once you get stateside?"

"Find Scott Lang and give him the drive."

Her father nodded. "And what are you never to do?"

"Look back."

The train came to a stop. Mika swallowed a lump that had formed in her throat. The father and daughter walked down the steps to street level. The city of Tokyo rose all around them.

A group of shady men in suits approached them. Mika took on last glance at her father who gave her a smile. She bolted down to the consulate. It was only a few blocks from the station. She heard her father shout some insults at the men.

Mika zigged and zagged through the late afternoon crowd. Her body was pumping with a dangerous level of hormones as she got closer and closer to the consulate.

She felt a wave of relief once she saw the American flag waving in the air only a few dozen meters away. She began to pump her arms harder as she sprinted to the gate. The marine guards looked at Mika with suspicious glares as the girl heaved for air.

"My name is Mika Iwakura, and I request asylum within the United States of America," she said in the best English she could muster between gasps.

The guards looked confused for a moment and radioed someone for a response. After a minute the guards opened the gate and let Mika in. She stepped onto the consulate grounds just as a string of bullet fire erupted over the sounds of the city. The Marines drew their weapons and began to look around.

Mika dropped to her hands and knees. Her eyes widened, the first signs of tears forming. One of the guards grabbed Mika and dragged her inside. Never once did the girl look back.

 _To Be Continued…_

* * *

Bluefire's A/N: Hello to those that don't know me. I'm Bluefire, found here: u/6008286/ and I am super excited for this project. I had this idea in my head for a while, but since I have a lot on my plate I had to mothball it. Fortunately Demon was interested in a collaboration and I was able to dig this one out of the pile.

BD did a really good job setting up the initial meeting of Tony and Lain, so all I had to do there was a little bit of beefing up and some polishing. We were able to encapsulate both the weirdness of Lain and bring up Tony's mental state after the whole battle for the Earth thing.

Now to BD's credit the intro he did for Lain was pretty good. However, he went a little too fast. We are working towards Age of Ultron, but I think it is important that we build Lain's place in the world first by using Iron Man 3 and Winter Soldier (but mostly Winter Soldier).

The stuff with the Iwakuras was all me. Think of Mika as our Norman McCay, our moral center and island of sanity as events unfold.

Now since this is my second ongoing Lain related story, I'm going to do my best from keeping the portrayal of Lain in _The Serial Experiment_ different from the Lain portrayed here. Namely I'm going to focus on the otherness of Lain. Hopefully that will work.


	2. Layer 2-Program

Layer 2: Program

Opening A/N: This part here is done by the Blufire Phoenix, and the ending shall be done by me. Plus we'll be adding OCs in here. Anyway, I hope you guys and gals enjoy this next installment.

Avery Green was not having the best day. S.H.I.E.L.D. assigned her as a Field Agent to Japan two long years ago when she was only twenty-five. It was a career death sentence. Nothing happened in Japan. All the weird and wacky things that happened to the nation in anime and sentai shows: lies. All lies.

Sure there were the natural disasters and what not. But for an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., it was a rather boring assignment meant for older agents that were either retiring or being moved up the chain. Avery had friends going off and finding all sorts of bizarre things, keeping the world safe from god knows what. Avery herself was usually only busy doing paperwork and going through collected data to ship back to HQ. Usually.

For today Avery was presented a break in her mundane work of a spy. There had been a strange murder in downtown Tokyo. A local girl had run to the U.S. Embassy at around the same time; an odd coincidence given the circumstances.

Not long after that was when Avery got a call from the embassy. The person who called her office had been unhelpfully cryptic before asking her to come to the embassy. So she excitedly left her office in the hope of getting to the bottom of the situation.

It was well into the afternoon when she arrived and the embassy was still in full lockdown. An irritated frown twitched onto her lips. Her hands clenched a moment.

The marines guarding the base eyed her as she approach. Avery couldn't help but feel self-conscious as she approached. She never really garnered the attention of the opposite gender very often.

Avery pulled out her identity card for the guards. "Agent Green, S.H.I.E.L.D., I got a call from the embassy that said you need something looked at," she explained. One of the guards examined the card and called it in.

After a minute he got a response. Avery was waved in. She was escorted into the back rooms of the embassy. Her escort left her with the embassy director in an observation room installed next to an interrogation room. The director was an imposing man with salt and pepper hair that he parted far to the left. He offered Avery his hand. The agent gave it a firm shake.

"Thank you for coming, Agent Green," the director greeted. He had a distinct northeastern accent.

"I'm happy to help sir," Avery said. She let go of his hand. "What seems to be the problem?"

The agent looked into the interrogation room to find a teenaged Japanese girl sitting inside. Her eyes were wide, shifting side to side. The director handed her an ID card. The logo on the card was hard to make out but Avery finally determined it was for Tachibana General Laboratories. Avery arrived in Japan not long after the company went completely belly up. It dominated the news for months. Investigations showed that the root of the problem had to do with several top engineers simply disappearing in the late nineties. Product quality slipped and the company went into a downward spiral.

"She gave this to us once we got her inside. She hasn't said anything else but her name, Mika Iwakura, and a request for asylum stateside," the director said. Avery examined the card a bit more. It was faded and smudged all over the place, like someone tried to crudely destroy it but changed their mind before they completed the task. "There are some other papers too, but we couldn't make heads or tails of them." He directed Avery to some crumpled papers on a table.

Avery recognized S.H.I.E.L.D. logo they used in the late nineties. The information on the papers was heavily encrypted, appearing as a useless jumble of characters. But from what she could make out it was authentic. She collected the documents and turned to the director. "Okay, let me talk to her. Go ahead and draw up the paper work to get her asylum," she said.

"That goes against procedure," the director objected. Avery rubbed her temple a moment.

"Look, that girl seems to have one objective. You don't have to officiate anything, just get everything in order for her. She'll be more cooperative if we appear to be on her side. I'll go in and see if I can get an explanation out of her," Avery counter as she pulled out roll of lipstick and a mirror out of her purse. The director nodded and left.

Avery finished applying the lipstick. She put the mirror back before putting the lid on, twisting it ever so lightly clockwise.

Mika was sitting in the interrogation room. She had been left there for well over an hour. The urge to rip out her heart had overwhelmed her for most other the time. She started to rock her body. Nervous sweat coated her skin.

The door opened, forcing Mika's gaze up. An American woman with pale skin and dark hair entered the room. She was dressed in a black business suit. Her hair was cut short at the neck, with longer bangs that framed rather plain her face. The only really striking thing about her was the bright red lipstick she wore and her ice blue eyes.

The woman also lacked an embassy badge. Mika curled up a little tighter. The woman cocked her head to the side. "Relax kid, I'm not going to hurt you," she said in fluent, but heavily accented Japanese.

Mika perked up a bit. She looked around the room. "My name is Mika Iwakura, and I request asylum within the United States of America," she responded in English.

"I know. My name is Avery Green. I represent S.H.I.E.L.D. Now, the embassy has started processing your paperwork. So now that I've helped you would you help me by telling me what these papers you had are or where you got them?" Avery asked, switching to English. Mika looked to the side. Avery sighed. "Look, I want to help you kid but you have to give me something."

"My name is Mika Iwakura, and I request asylum within the United States of America," Mika repeated.

Avery felt a rumble crawl up her throat. "Nobody else is listening in, I swear. Now please just tell me how you got those damn papers."

Mika turned her gaze just above the woman's head. There was a…a…a girl floating above Avery. She was sitting cross legged in a plain black spring dress. Her wide eyes were nothing but black voids with strange multicolored band swirling like a screensaver inside them, creating various complex shapes before collapsing and rebuilding. She had a single bang framing the left side of her face. The strange floating girl nodded in approval.

"Mika?" Avery asked. Her voice seemed to echo across a vast chasm of white.

The teenaged girl snapped out of her trance. "I…I, my father gave them to me," Mika whispered. Avery straightened up.

"I take it that he was the one who was…"

Mika nodded. Avery examined the ID card once more before standing up. She took out her lipstick and fiddled with it a moment. She quickly left the room after that.

Avery looked over the ID card, finally making out the faded number below the barcode. She pulled out her cellphone and scrolled down to a name in her contacts simply named Juiz. Avery hit the phone icon. She brought the phone up to her ear.

The call went out, going through three rings. "This is Juiz," a female voice answered. She had a cool Latin accent.

"Juiz, this is Agent Green. ID Number 7-2103-1494," Avery robotically stated. There was an awkward pause.

"Greetings Agent Green, how may I assist you?" Juiz asked.

"I need you to find a personnel database for Tachibana General Laboratories then search for all data associated with the Identity Number 13437897," Avery listed off.

"One moment please."

Avery began to tap her foot.

"Database found. Access to database is restricted as of today at 1103 hours local time. Agent Green does not have permission to access this database. Goodbye," Juiz hung up. Avery checked the time on her watch. Someone had locked down that database around the estimated time of the murder of Mika's father. Her phone started to ring only a few seconds later. It was her boss!

"Yes, sir," Avery greeted.

"Agent Green, I want you to terminate the girl," her boss said. His voice was deathly cold. Avery felt her heart skip a beat. S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't perfect and agents sometimes had to violate their moral code in the name of the mission. But this…

"What?" Avery hissed.

"Terminate the girl. Afterwards I'll see to it that you get the posting of your choice as well as an upgrade to your salary," the boss said. All Avery had wanted for the last two years, presented to her on a golden plate. "Pay to play if you will." The man hung up on her.

Avery put her phone back in her pocket as she walked back to Mika. She fiddled with her lipstick case again before she reentered the interrogation room. Mika looked up at her. Avery reached into her suit's jacket, her hand gripping her pistol. The weapon felt icy to the touch. The woman slowly took out her Armatrix iP1. The light on the back of the pistol switched from red to green. She aimed at Mika. Her golden ticket was sitting right there to be claimed. All she had to do was kill a girl.

The girl hung her head, sending her hair every which way. She took a final glance at Avery. The Agent saw in her eyes not fear or dread, but quiet acceptance and resignation.

Avery tried to reach for her weapons trigger but every time she got close to it her finger recoiled. Her arm started to shake.

"Pay to play," she whispered to herself. Her finger began to tighten around the trigger. "Pay to play."

The trigger squeezed. The hot lead sped out of the barrel of the pistol. The bullet logged itself in the wall behind Mika. Avery felt the weapon fall from her hand. She collapsed to her knees.

"Agent Green?" Mika tentatively called out.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Avery started repeating. "Pay to play?"

Mika stood up and examined the bullet hole. She then turned to Avery, straightening out her cloths. She walked over to the near weeping agent. Mika offered her hand.

Avery looked up to Mika. "I don't under…understand," she said in a hushed voice.

"You look like you need a friend," Mika answered.

"Friend? I just attempted to murder you in cold blood for a dream job!" Avery shouted.

"But you didn't and okay maybe friend is too strong of a word," Mika dryly responded.

"This is…this is wrong. This all wrong. This isn't what S.H.I.E.L.D. is supposed to be," she whispered.

"I hope not. Alright, look, I don't know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is trying to kill me or if they're linked to my mother and father's murder. If you help me find Scott Lang in America and we may just find out," Mika offered. Avery grasped the girl's hand. She was able to get up, taking her weapon back.

"So do you trust me?" Avery asked. She wiped some mucus off her nose on her sleeve.

"Not really. But you haven't slowed me down with red tape and only attempted to murder me. So there's that," Mika stoically quipped. Avery put her pistol away.

"Then I guess that'll have to do for now," she answered. She offered her hand to Mika. The girl contemplated it for a moment, looking up above the woman to see the girl in the black spring dress tapping the top of her wrist. Mika nodded and clasped the hand.

"I guess so." The ladies shook on the tentative, ad hoc alliance. "What do you thing the best way out of here is, Agent Green?"

Avery contemplated for a moment after releasing Mika's hand. "I think I know a way," she said. She led them out of the interrogation room down to the director's office, of which said director was coming out of with a file in hand.

He was obviously surprised to see the two, but his eyes were focused on the odd way Avery's right arm held her waste. "Um…I have the paperwork for Ms. Iwakura. All that's left is for her to sign it," he reported.

"Good. Does this facility have any transportation?" Avery asked.

The director nodded. "We have the ambassador's private limo. Why?"

"We need to take it to the airport."

"Now hold up there Agent Green, I can't just let you take it!" The director shouted.

Avery whipped out her pistol from the concealed holster inside her suit and jammed the .22 right under the man's jaw. "Sorry about this but we really need to be going. You can either help us or I'll find someone else who will," she growled. Mika grabbed her paper work from the paralyzed bureaucrat.

"Alright, alright. I'll call the driver and you can be off," the director stuttered out.

Just over two thousand kilometers from Agent Green's ordeal in Tokyo another struggle was starting to brew in the even older and far larger center of regional power, the ancient city of Beijing.

Many battles had been fought in and around the capital. Most were the typical clash of armies. But today another battle was going to be fought. This fight would be invisible to most people. Maybe even invisible to the government who called Beijing home, if the attackers in the coming conflict were lucky. Or good enough.

S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Special Operations Agent Travis Cunningham preferred the later outcome. Luck tended to be fickle and as kind as it was cruel. He had learned that the hard way a little over a year ago when he was on tour in Iraq as a U.S. Marine. After his knee injury he was discharged and sent home. The south Boston native was convinced that his life was pretty much over. The doctors gave the usual spiel about never being able to properly walk again.

While waiting in a VA hospital in Texas, a man in a black suit approached him. He thanked Travis for his service and offered his condolences about his injury. The standard fair one would expect in that part of the country. Then the man asked Travis a rather simple question: how would you like to keep serving your country?

Travis answered in the affirmative with perhaps a little too much haste. The next thing he knew he was a member of The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. They had been able to fix his knee in a matter of weeks. It wasn't as good as new but he had enough mobility back to be cleared for training. Training that made him yearn for the easy days Parris Island.

After that hellish experience he was assigned to Special Operations. He wasn't put into any old unit either. For some reason, he was serving under Steve freaking Rogers. Travis's grandfather had always gone on and on about all the adventures of Captain America he had watched as a boy during World War Two. Travis always thought he was some caricature that the propaganda machine produced back in the day.

But there he was, sitting behind him just reading a book in the apartment they had been rented through one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s shell companies. Though the two men were of comparable size and build, if one were to stretch the definition of build, Rogers towered over Travis. Whenever the Captain walked into a room, you knew he was in charge. It was a feeling that Travis never felt while in the military.

Sleeping on one of the cots near the Captain was the mysterious redheaded woman known as Natasha Romanov. Travis saw the woman every now and again while in rehab for lack of a better term skulking about the place. He had heard a rumor that her nickname was "the Black Widow." While Travis was curious as to how she acquired such a title, his sense of self-preservation made him burry the question.

The trio was reaching the final stages of a raid to take down a rogue cyber intelligence outfit, code named Jinx, which had been quietly terrorizing the world economy. The Chinese government denied their existence and refused to divulge any information about them, but S.H.I.E.L.D. was able to locate the heart of the operation. This operation was put into action because Jinx was attempting to hack into QuanXiong Computer Industries International. QX was a major player in the market and if Jinx got a hold of even a single chip schematic, millions of people would be vulnerable to cyber-attack.

Travis felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. The summer heat and layer of smog that choked Beijing was starting to get to him. The layer of stubble that had grown out over the last couple of days wasn't helping much either. The apartment they were staying at gave them an excellent view of the office building where the rogue operation was based. With the mission start time fast approaching they had gone into constant surveillance mode leaving Travis little time for grooming his jet black hair.

For Steve the surveillance was little more than an annoyance and was standard fair for Romanov. But this was the first time for Travis. He felt his nerves starting to fray as he looked at his computer monitor again. He rubbed his sea green eyes and continued watching the feeds from the building's security cameras.

He felt a firm hand grab his shoulder. Steve was standing over him. "Why don't I take over your shift?" he offered. Travis shook his head.

"I've got this Cap. Don't worry about me," Travis insisted. He felt the Captain tighten his grip. It wasn't threating or violent, more like the concerned yank of a friend.

"I insist. We're going in a few hours and I want you at your best there," the Captain said. "Please don't force me to make it an order."

Travis closed his eyes a moment before he stood up. Steve released him. The black haired man went to his cot. A pleasant black sleep over came him.

As Travis Cunningham entered the realm of dreams, Natasha Romanov stirred from it. She rose up from cot with the grace of a serpent. Her steps towards Steve were almost deliberately silent.

"Isn't it the new guy's shift?" she asked. Steve nodded. He took a note on a pad.

"It is, but I sent him to take a nap. We bust in less than six hours."

"You can't baby him every time," Natasha quipped.

"No, but this is his first mission. You have years of experience and I have super human abilities to cope with this. He'll catch up soon. But until then it is my job as his CO to look out for his wellbeing," Steve quietly retorted. Natasha rolled her eyes and began a quest to sniff out some food.

She began to rifle through their pantry. Once she had all she wanted she took her haul to the kitchen table. It wasn't much. Mostly empty calories and sugar but it would do for the moment. Natasha snacked while going over a blueprint of the floor they were going to storm. As her eyes moved over the page, her ears picked up something else. It sounded like a faint static rising in the background.

The femme fatale took a quick look up from her work, banishing the odd sound. She saw the good old American hero wearing a puzzled look. He was looking at the note he wrote down earlier then to the screen.

"What's up?" Natasha asked.

"I've lost track of five people so far," Steve reported.

"Are you implying that they're on to us?"

"I think we should take that into account."

"And the timetable?"

"We'll move in an hour early, see if we can catch them off guard. If they have hostages then we should make them the first priority."

"I disagree but it's your call."

"It's not right for innocent people to die because someone on our side slipped up."

"I never said you were wrong, Cap, just that I disagree with you."

Silence fell over the room. Until an hour before it was time to go. Natasha threw a piece of body armor on Travis to wake him up. "Come on kid, we're going in early," she said. Travis quickly got up and put on the black armor. Natasha was in her catsuit and a special belt lined with EMP charges around her waist, while Steve was wearing a dulled down version of his outfit.

Travis put on his holster and pulled out his weapon. It was a worn down and scarred up 9mm Glock 17. S.H.I.E.L.D. had offered him access to perhaps the world's most extensive arsenal. But there wasn't another weapon on Earth Travis would rather have at his side.

The sun was nearly set as Steve lined up a shot with the cable gun. Natasha was working on the computer, preparing a static loop to hide their presence.

The Captain fired the cable gun, landing a perfect shot on the target. Steve prepped himself to slide down, preparing to use his shield as a battering ram. He zipped down the cable, smashing down the window and rolling to a crouching position before moving out of the way.

Natasha hooked onto the cable next. She looked at Travis. "Give me a second to move. You don't want to have to explain to the director that you broke my ankle because you came up to quickly behind me," she warned.

"I wouldn't dream of it ma'am," Travis answered.

"Well you say that," Natasha coyly replied. She launched herself down. Travis counted to thirty then repelled down the cable to join the other two. It was rather nerve wracking. Below him was the evening traffic of a major city. Even if he survived the multistory fall, he'd probably be run over within seconds.

He tried to focus on the roll he'd make once he reached the end. It wasn't the most graceful of exits but it worked and he was across the manmade canyon.

"Silencers on," Steve ordered. Travis and Natasha complied, adding the necessary equipment to their respective weapons.

"Remember Rookie, look before you shoot. They might have hostages," Natasha warned. Travis grimaced at the news. He gave a nod and the trio began to sneak through the office. Something was off about Natasha. Her breathing was starting to get heavier and heavier. She looked up at the ceiling every now and again with little rhyme or reason. Travis sort of related as he felt his heart beat faster and faster as they approached Jinx's main server room. But even he was able to keep his breath under control.

Travis took his attention off of the woman and returned it to the dark, purple tinted office the trio was trying to infiltrate. The hairs on the back of his neck He turned around and unleashed a round into the figure of a man holding a pistol.

The other two turned around. Travis reloaded. "Good catch," Steve whispered. Travis nodded. "Alright, the server room is just only a few meter further down. I'll scout ahead; see what we're up against. You two wait—"

The words barely left the Captain's mouth when Natasha suddenly stood up and ran down a side hall. Serval shots rang out. Someone was screaming orders in Mandarin.

"You were saying?" Travis asked. He tried to bite back the sarcasm.

"Go after her, make sure she's safe," Steve said.

"And if she's not?"

"Then get the charges and get back here. I'll secure the server room."

Natasha felt dangerously light headed. But she swore she saw someone. No a silhouette of a girl, a girl that whispered to her. "Please...help...me," The girl would say in a hush, seductive tone. Her words floated on the air, uncatchable wisps lingering somewhere just out of sight.

She chased after the girl; hoping for a good look at her. Natasha followed the shadow clad girl into a large office space. The woman felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and leg. She clumsily face planted onto the floor. Her fall was muted somewhat by a large pile of papers.

"No, I the invulnerable super soldier will do the safe thing and scout ahead. Why don't you, the vulnerable regular soldier with the bad knee go off and rescue our apparently crazy espionage expert," Travis muttered under his breath as he fought his way to the office he saw Natasha fall in.

It was clear to him that these Jinx guys weren't experts in the field of CQC. Amateurs really; though, Travis felt that the term was too kind. He was expecting to go toe to toe against top men, not the rent-a-henchmen level performance he was stuck in. Well at least they weren't in the Grid or some other cyber world…hopefully…otherwise they'd probably be totally screwed.

Travis finally reached Natasha and pulled her out of the doorway. She had a couple of bullet holes in her and was bleeding. Nothing important was hit, adding to his "these guys suck" hypothesis. However modern firearms and their sheer numbers did allow them one advantage: concentrated firepower. The sound of 9 mm and 10 mm bullets impacting the wall behind Travis was starting to give him a headache. Adding to his problems was the fact that Natasha wouldn't shut up.

"Don't go?" she'd mumble. "Who are you?" Occasionally she'd just slip into Russian.

Travis did what he could to block out the excess noise. Whenever a lull in the flurry came, Travis took aim and downed a few of the attackers with precise headshots. The problem was he was running down to his last couple of clips. The mission was supposed to in and out, firearms were brought as a precaution for covering a hot exit. Not a protracted gunfight.

His opponents didn't seem to have the same problem. Travis did have an out. He had a short range radio to contact the Captain. It was embarrassing to call for help on his first mission but he was trapped between a rock and a storm of bullets.

His ears twitched. He heard an unfamiliar clink bandying about outside followed by the familiar sound of metal hitting skull. It went on for a few seconds before the Captain's shield flew through the door, smacking against the back wall. Steve came in only a second after it, catching the shield as it came back to him and replaced it on his arm.

Steve took note of the situation. He quickly checked Natasha pulse. She was very much alive as she had yet to shut up. After that, the Captain stood up. He was clearly deep in thought. His concentration was broken when he bent down and picked up a sheet of paper.

"Cunningham, check this out. Am I seeing things, or is this what I think it is?" the Captain requested.

Travis walked over. He felt compelled to search the floor for his jaw the moment he realized what was on the page.

"What the hell do you think it means?" Travis asked. I heard the sound of boots in the distance.

"It means we need to call this in and fast," the Captain said. He looked at his watch and hit a button on the side of its face.

Across an ocean and a continent was the capital of a younger nation, Washington D.C. It was a city littered with buildings whose architecture was trying to emulate the style of what some dubiously called the peak of "Western Civilization." There was one building in the area that seemed out of place with the peculiar nostalgic vibe of the city. It was a modern day bastion that hinted at a future to come. The building was headquarters to the protectors of that future, The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. The Triskelion, three large interconnected towers that held some the world's brightest minds and darkest secrets.

Nick Fury had rarely been there since his tenure as head of S.H.I.E.L.D. began. He wasn't one for the day to day operations, preferring to be on a helicarrier where the action was. But as of late he had to stay at the Triskelion. Things were changing.

That's why he was concerned about the call he got from Tony Stark's girlfriend earlier. Fury wasn't particularly fond of Stark outside his suit. But the work he was doing to improve S.H.I.E.L.D. was invaluable. So when Tony Stark wanted a private meeting when it was all quiet on the front, it was probably a storm warning of some sort.

He walked down one of the many nigh-labyrinthine hallways that snaked through the building. He was going to his office. It was his only escape from the drudgery of the bureaucratic dance that was D.C.

Stark would be there soon. Fury removed a bottle of top shelf scotch gifted by MI5 to him from his desk. His intercom rang. He hit the answer button.

"Mr. Stark is here to see you, Director," Fury's secretary said.

"Send him up," he ordered. A few minutes later a man walked into the room. He looked like Tony Stark. He wore the same cloths as Tony Stark. But there was no way the disheveled, ruffled, and suspicious man in front of him was Tony Stark. The pseudo-Stark ruffled with one of his suit jacket's cufflinks for a moment before turning to Fury.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. may be at risk," the pseudo-Stark finally blurted out. That caught Fury's attention.

"Stark, did you finally lose your mind down in that damn hole you've been hiding in all this time?" Fury asked. He tried to curb back the sarcasm.

"Not yet. Well not entirely. But that's not the problem. Stark Industries got hacked last night," Stark admitted. That caused a frown to fall onto the director's face.

"Now how in the hell did that happen?"

Tony threw up his arms in defeat and started pacing around the room. "Don't know. We've tried tracing them but that's led us nowhere. No group has claimed responsibility or leaked anything, so we have basically less than nothing. The only thing we know for sure is that if they can get to me than they sure as hell…can…can…can…"

The billionaire had started to sputter out. He was staring intently at Fury's window. Fury turned around. There was nothing but the view of Washington.

Fury sighed. "Listen Tony, you've been through a lot the last few months and working yourself to death isn't helping. I'm putting everything on hold until you've taken a vacation and talked to a therapist or two. Everything's fine," he said. Tony clenched his fist and stormed out of the office, swearing under his breath.

Not two seconds after the mechanic left, Fury's emergency comm light flashed. He picked it up.

"What is it Agent Hill?" Fury asked.

"Sir we're having trouble with your Szechwan order. It appears there's some trouble in the kitchen," Hill answered.

"Perfect," Fury muttered. "Put the chef through."

"Yes sir."

A moment later there was a little bit of static followed by the voice of Steve Rogers. "Director, we seem to have a situation. Jinx just keeps on coming, we haven't been able to fry their backups, and Natasha's down," he said in his commanding tone.

"Give me some good news Cap," Fury insisted. Getting agents to think positives was an old technique, but it worked.

"It depends on how you define good sir. Jinx seems to have acquired the specs to some of Stark's suits," Rogers reported.

"One moment please," Fury requested. He buzzed his secretary. "Make sure Mr. Stark doesn't leave the premises."

"I don't know sir, he's having tantrum in the hall. Should I have security detain him?"

"Yes, but put him in a nice office while I wrap this up," Fury ordered. He returned his attention to the captain. "Alright, get what you can of those specs and head to the secondary extraction point."

"Yes, sir," Rogers answered.

The line went dead. Fury sighed. There was going to be hell to pay. The only question was who owed what to whom.

[To Be Continued…]

A/N 1: I hope you guys enjoy this installment, so please leave a review if possible, but I'm sorry...I don't speak any Spanish. Also faves and Follows are still optional, and on behalf of both Bluefire Phenoix and myself, this is BloodyDemon666 signing off!

A/N 2: The initial concept of Avery Green was that of the named red shirt doomed to die to show that the situation "be serious for realzies y'all." But as I continued on with the chapter, I realized that it might be the tiniest bit difficult for a traumatized teenaged girl to get out of Japan to America without help. So Avery evolved into a proper OC meant to stick around (if you know what her name is referencing, you're my most favorite person ever). Now since I'm a nice person, I thought it'd only be fair to let Demon have an OC too. Overall I am pleased with the chapter.


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